Post air flight euphoria came with my waking up in a Harlem brownstone, in an apartment that’s more vertical than horizontal. I woke up after dreaming about having to shave the base of a horses’ ear, in preparation for my teaching a class on turning on the forehand and hindquarters. Go figure.

The euphoria stayed with me, even in the oddest of circumstances. I was totally out of my element during my first New York City experience, attending a television program called “The View.” I had no idea that there is such a program – Judy watches it regularly. She also got free tickets. With this came a sheet that included a dress code. No hats, bright colors, look good. I wore what I had on hand, jeans and a purple fleece coat. Judy wore a colorful dress. Eleanor wore jeans and a purple vest she bought at the Goodwill Thrift Store in Portland.

“The View” experience began with our standing outside the CBS building, in a long line. We were after a twenty minute wait ushered into a room by the entrance. This was done by young interns who for the duration of the morning carefully monitored out behavior. They were all dressed in black and spoke in condescending voices. The 100 or so of us sat at tables; there were juice bottles on adjacent tables, and to our far left, a Starbucks. This, and a well-lit area, where we could take photos (with the backdrop saying The View), presumably kept us occupied.

Across from me sat a dark skinned woman with a sidelong smile. She was wearing a yellow blouse with embroidery at the top. El and I talked to her. She she’s

The View

an elementary school teacher and she lives on Long Island. She said she routinely said comes into New York for these kinds of shows.

Both El and I chaffed at the authoritative attitude of the interns. They even had a young fellow monitoring the bathroom line. We could only go in three at a time. I told him that he must be angling for a real job. He told me he’s in school and works two other jobs.

We were told before being moved elsewhere to be sure and bus our tables by a large bouncer type fellow who added “and if you don’t do this right, you will be brought back here and do it again and again, that is until you get it right.” Oh my.

We then were taken down a long hall and into an open room, which on three sides were lined with chairs, bleacher style. There were numerous cameras and a multitude of bright lights on the ceiling. The front area contained a tall table with four seats, and at each seat was a coffee mug.

I felt a bit claustrophobic; there were too many people in too small an area for my liking. After a bit, the hype began. A woman, tall, thin, willowy, with long brown hair appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, and with microphone in hand, began interacting with the audience. She asked where people were from, and repeatedly encouraged us all to clap. The more she asked, the more still I became.

I noticed that each host had a camera pointed at them, and that near the audience entrance, on the side, there was a young woman, dressed in black, looking very somber.

Finally, finally, the six or so hosts of the show walked on stage amid considerable clapping. The teleprompter began rolling and co-host, Whoopi Goldberg, read off of it, and off her notes. Pre-determined conversations about the current political situation followed, with a moment of supposed levity. It was the co-host Joyce’s birthday. She was given a huge bouquet of flowers and a cake. And we all had to sing happy birthday to her.

I was impressed with Whoopi, who was wearing a flag sweatshirt, loose fitting pants, and white sneakers. Judy later said she seemed subdued. Well, we all have our days, don’t we?

The best moment occurred when Donna Brazile, a “veteran Democrat strategist,” appeared on stage and talked about the upcoming Supreme Court vote. And, when she later walked to the right of the stage, where she and Eleanor made eye contact.

We left when the show was over – and were given a gift, a book co-authored by Brazile, Yolanda Caraway, Leah Doherty, and Minyon Moore. This was clearly worth the hassle and hype involved in being audience participants. And a quick glance revealed that these four women have spent a great deal of time in Harlem.

I did not at any point think “I came to Harlem for this?” because this was a once a lifetime experience. Well, actually, it was interesting enough that I might consider doing it again.